


Confrontation

by Elfwreck



Series: Power Play [4]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-20
Updated: 2005-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:12:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfwreck/pseuds/Elfwreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's new, dangerous game moves to a new arena.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by ghoulchick. Originally posted at <http://community.livejournal.com/snape_potter/370657.html>.

I walk into his study full of anger and defiance. I'm sick of being ignored, being evaded; I won't let him do this to me any more. No more insults directed at a spot six inches above my head; no more changing the rules. I wonder how many points this will cost. I don't care. _Tonight, we finish this game_.

I stand in his doorway; he's sitting behind his desk with a stack of scrolls to one side. When I step into the room, he sets down his quill.

He looks up at me. I glare. He tilts his head. I cross my arms over my chest. He gestures at the door. I reach behind me, pull it closed. He sneers. I scowl. He raises an eyebrow. I step toward the desk. He stands. I gasp. He smirks. I gulp. He leans forward. I step back…bump hard into the door. Round one is his.

He berates me. (10 points from Gryffindor.) I apologize. He rolls his eyes. I pout. His lips twist. I glance about the room. He slaps the desk. I flinch. (5 more points.) He walks around the desk. I stand up straighter. He looms over me. I crane my neck. He stares. I wink. His brow furrows. I smile. He hisses. I lick my lips. He parts his. I stretch upwards. He turns away quickly. Round two is mine.

I grab his sleeve. He whirls to face me. I stumble. He catches me. I look away. He whispers at me. I swallow hard. He pulls me closer. I close my eyes. His teeth touch my ear. I whimper. He bites softly. I shudder hard. He chuckles. My eyes open wide. He pulls me upright. I look up at him. His eyes narrow. I bite my lip. He pushes me so I'm standing free. I find my balance. He waits. Round three is a draw, but I'm in a bit deep.

I start to talk. He puts a finger to my lips. I kiss it. His hand slides down to my neck. My breath catches in my throat. He tightens his grip. I groan. He pushes me back until I'm against the wall. My legs wobble. He presses into me. I melt into him. His hand slides downward. I writhe. He stops at my waist. I arch up. His fingertips reach lower. I moan. He spreads his hand out. My cock twitches. He shivers. I grab his wrist. He stops moving. I lift his hand. He starts to pull away. I pivot around him, forcing him against the wall. He growls. Round four, draw two…

My fingers trail down his arm. He breathes in sharply. I push one thigh between his legs. He breathes out slowly. I push up against him. He grabs my shoulders. My hips grind in slow circles. His fingers tighten through my robes. I thrust upward. He shoves me away. I fall.

He rakes his eyes over me… legs straight out and slightly apart, arms wide from trying to catch my balance; I'm almost spread-eagled on his floor. We both stop for a long moment.

Our eyes meet. I can't read his expression. What round is this?

I pull my legs together. He shakes his head slowly. I start to sit up. He moves to stand over me, one leg on either side of my waist. I try to back away from him. He drops to his knees. I squeak. He touches my cheek. I turn toward his hand. He traces my lip. I lick his fingertip. He taps my lip sharply. I sigh. His finger trails down my throat. I arch my neck back. His hand slides behind my neck. I relax into his touch. His fingers spread through my hair. I squirm beneath him.

He grabs my hair, yanks my head back, and leans his chest to mine. ( _Hey! That's three at once!_ ) He whispers sharply ( _again!_ ) into my ear. I try to pull away, but he's holding my hair and sitting on my thighs and pressing me down. I squirm again, and his hips thrust once to pin me to the floor. He thrusts once more, slowly, and a shudder runs through me.

Our eyes meet again. I still can't read his expression. Have I won? We're both breathing hard… heavy, shuddering breaths. Gulping air.

His eyes narrow, and a smile twists across his face. He releases his hold on my hair, and my head jerks forward a bit. He sits upright, still straddling my thighs, and pulls me up so we're facing each other. I rest one hand behind me to brace. He's heavy, and the floor is cold. I don't move.

Neither does he. Minutes pass.

Needles and pins in my feet. I twitch my ankles. He smirks, and stands up. Over me. I look up, and blush. He steps back, half-smile still on his face. He offers me a hand. I stare. He raises an eyebrow. (Are we starting over?) I take his hand. He pulls me upright. I don't pull my hand away. He doesn't let go.

After a long moment, his thumb traces little circles on the back of my hand. I close my eyes. The circles get larger. I snatch my hand away. He chuckles. I open my eyes to glare at him. He tilts his head. I start to cross my arms over my chest… and then realize what I'm doing. I flush red. My shoulders slump in defeat. I mumble something and turn to go.

As I walk out the door, he tells me to come back next week.


End file.
